Trekking on Familiar Turf

My first boyfriend recently contacted me online. What a surprise! At nearly fifty years of age…it was an unexpected one at that. Although a somewhat bittersweet…no, not somewhat…really bittersweet experience, our previous relationship, such as it was, left me wondering many years later whether or not I had adequately examined all the issues stirred up by this reconnection. This blast from the past came through an online message board for classmates. I had placed my e-mail address there nearly a year and a half ago and promptly forgot about it, having only been contacted by a couple of people…it wasn't something in the forefront of my life.

Then the e-mail came…and after a few exchanges, we made an appointment to meet at a local restaurant. I was amazed by the ease with which I went forward with this little venture…as this guy had broken my heart badly at an earlier time in my life. I had truly loved him…and was often fond of saying that he was one of very few men I ever truly loved…at least until Sam transitioned. But, I went…and I was amazed at how little rancor there was between us…that despite some pretty terrible things he had done…I was willing to forgive and go forward. It was a good feeling.

However, I found myself in a bit of a pickle in terms of explaining Sam's role in my life. You see, I had already told this fellow that I was "queer". Having already told him that, Sam's request not to divulge his "trans" status placed me in a somewhat awkward position. You see, for safety's sake, Sam insisted on accompanying me to the restaurant (he had to drive me there as I am visually impaired and cannot drive) to meet my friend. He said that if he felt comfortable with the guy, he would simply leave and come back to pick me up when we were through visiting. This placed me in the position of somehow explaining my relationship with Sam without denying our precious love for each other…and without misleading my old friend.

So, after Sam met my friend who we shall call "Paul" for the sake of privacy (*not* his real name), he went home secure in the knowledge that he didn't think the guy was a serial killer or crazed and maniacal rapist. Then I looked at Paul and simply said that Sam and I had a relationship that went back eleven years or more…and that things are not always what they seem. He took this to mean that ours was a "cover" relationship and that we were both gay. In other words, Sam passed completely with Paul even in an up close and personal meeting. I was stumped as to how to explain without betraying Sam's confidence…but simply repeated with lots of eye contact that things are not always what they seem. He still had no clue.

It isn't as if Paul has lived a sheltered life. As the administrator of a chemical dependency treatment facility, he came to that position after many years in marketing for such facilities and…before that…a long tenure as a high cailber chemical dependency counselor. His background as a nurse and his history of recovery from heroin addiction gave him good preparation for both the empathy and skills necessary to do a good job helping folks who were ready to lead clean and sober lives.

He also had had his own personal interface with the LGBT (Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgendered) community, having had a brief gay relationship, several close gay male friends, and a relationship with a bisexual female. Turns out, he and I both frequented the same local LGBT nightclub albeit several years apart. So, the whole point here is to say that he did not wear blinders with regard to the existence of LGBT folks in the community as so many straight people do. I let it drop for the moment.

We had a very enjoyable conversation, and at the end of it, he took me to my nearby home. I felt the most incredible sense of déjà vu as I rode in the truck beside him. It didn't feel exactly like the many rides I had taken with him more than thirty years before…but it evoked strong memories…most of which I would have preferred to keep forgotten. You see, coincidental to my previous interactions with Paul were the other events that simultaneously occurred in my life during that time period. One of them was the ongoing abuse suffered by my Mother and my entire family at the hands of a vicious person known hereafter as Stepmonster. This maniac eventually murdered Mother…and the abuse continued for many years as we suffered the usual fate of murder victim's survivors in the criminal injustice system…especially at the time in the early 70s…especially in highly conservative East Tennessee. As a result of all these experiences, I have severe Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder…and just riding in the truck with Paul was a real trigger for me.

Many days after the visit, I was still receiving e-mails from Paul. He began sending pictures from our high school days, and they were triggering me with every download. I don't know why, but somehow I knew that this was my spiritual "walk through fire", and that if I could only go with the emotions…allow myself to feel them, that I would be all right in the end. So, that is what I did. I cried…I panicked…I felt like running…I let my heart pound…I immersed myself in the fear that I have run from all my life…and what I found was that little by little I was desensitizing. I was getting control…or rather simply not overreacting to the images that triggered the memories of horrors I prefer not to elucidate here. I felt gloriously triumphant.

But as time went by…I felt badly about not being completely honest with Paul. I knew that he had divorced after a 20-something year marriage a few years back, and I suspected that he might be interested in a relationship that might be more romantic than platonic. Thus, the dilemma - how to spare his feelings while remaining true to Sam's request. So, in post after post I simply repeated the same phrase I had uttered in our initial reunion. We compared notes on the local LGBT community. He spoke of his relationships with people that I might know. Finally, I wrote a simple sentence of my love for Sam…and he clicked. He finally got it. I did not tell him…and I would not confirm it either until I had had a chance to discuss it with Sam.

Once I explained the above to him, Sam said to go ahead and give him the link to this website. After I did that, it was a little while before I heard from Paul again. When I did, he simply said he was "impressed with my dedication" to Sam. That was his last post to me. I guess he finally realized just how much I love my handsome, chivalrous, devoted, talented, sweet transman…because I truly do love him with all my heart.

As we enter the twelfth year of our union, Sam and I are grateful to Paul for opening some doors that I knew were nailed shut, but didn't really know how to go about opening them. The fear and dread of the past with all its' horrors had kept a part of my very soul locked up and immobilized. I feel freer in several ways after my communications with Paul because so many energy drains from the past have less power over my life.

Thank you, Paul.